Grace's Locket
by hisbonnielass
Summary: Will meets a girl in Tortuga after his ten years at sea. Her mysterious locket could be the death of him, unless he's willing to move on from Elizabeth. slightly AU Will/OC Rating for: Rape. Not too graphic, I think, but you've been warned.
1. The Heartlys & A Locket

**A/N: **I don't own PotC or "My Immortal" by Evanescence. I just love them both. This is slightly AU, because Will and Elizabeth do not have a child. This is my first fanfic, so pretty please with sugar on top don't be too harsh. I haven't decided if our favorite Captain will be a major player in the story yet. But I'm hoping he'll be making an appearance. And don't expect me to update too soon, which I know is terribly annoying but it's only a few more weeks until summer and then I can write all I want hopefully! So without further ado, (and ramblings), Grace's Locket!!

Chapter 1- The Heartlys & A Locket

Grace Heartly was sitting by her window, thinking. She really wanted to leave her mother's over-the-top mansion. It was completely out of place here in Tortuga. The rest of the honest folk here were happy to live in small homes as long as they could get sturdy locks on all of their doors. Not that there were many of them, you know, honest people. But when her husband had been stationed in Tortuga to do, well, whatever it is that he does, Grace's mother had insisted that everyone must envy her, or something like that. Grace couldn't really care less. In her opinion, Carolina was just the ridiculous woman that owned the house she had the misfortune of living in. Oh, if she had her choice, Grace would've left years ago. But even though Carolina had (somewhat) accepted that she no longer had any control over what Grace did, she was very adamant about keeping her daughter "safely" at home. Grace sighed. So much has changed. Who would've thought that I would still be here? I was ready to leave years ago. But these things are never simple_…_She allowed her mind to wander. She pictured the open sea, stretching out for unfathomable miles. And then someone wrapped their extremely toned, tanned arms around her and…well that's where it stopped. Although Grace knew it would drive her mother crazy, she wasn't really looking for love. Besides, if she ended up where she wanted to be, on a pirate ship, she knew that no man would be the beautiful, honest, caring person of her dreams. And since she didn't want to stow away on an EITC ship or a navy ship and risk being discovered and dragged home, Grace had decided long ago that she could do without love. It would be far better to be stuck on a pirate ship with a bunch of drunks than on an "honest" ship with a bunch of straight-laced sailors that would like nothing more than to make some extra money by bringing her home to her overbearing mother.

It was times like these, when Grace was deep in thought, which she would inevitably dwell on the few memories of her real father, Jonathan Heartly. He was a pirate who had "met" Carolina the night before her wedding. They had apparently fallen in love, but Jonathan refused to take her with him, saying she'd be better off with Edward Dalton than with him. So he left, not realizing that he had given Carolina, his "princess," more than just memories. Nine months after the wedding, Carolina gave birth to her first and only child, a daughter, Grace. But this child did not have the brown eyes and dark hair of her mother and Edward. No, she had blue-grey eyes and light brown hair that was streaked with blonde. And she was not petite like her mother either. Grace, now 24, was five foot nine. This was not Grace Marie Dalton. No, it was obvious to Carolina that this girl was a Heartly! So she fed Edward a completely fabricated story about her fair-haired grandmother that married a man with blue eyes. Of course, all of her relatives had brown eyes. And besides, Carolina would recognize those eyes anywhere! That hair! The posture, the height, everything! Grace might as well have been the female version of Jonathan, for Carolina thought that that was the only thing that made them different. The two could have been twins! Jonathan was in good shape for an older man, for he was always out at sea, and his skin was permanently tanned and freckled. Jonathan was definitely her father.

Grace could remember meeting her father for the first time. At first, she was, of course, reluctant to believe him. After all, she had been calling Edward "Father" for the last thirteen years! But as soon as she looked into his blue-grey eyes that were a mirror image of her own, Grace knew. She knew that her mother had been lying to her. When Carolina saw Jonathan, she jumped and squealed, which caused Grace to laugh without restraint for minutes on end because her mother never lost control. But her father was not amused.

"_That's funny." Jonathan hissed. "I don't recall reading in any of your letters that we had a daughter." Carolina looked down for a moment before saying, "She's not yours." But Jonathan saw right through that. "Oh no? Well then, do explain why she has MY eyes. And MY hair. Doesn't…oh, what's his name? Hmmm…Edward? Yes, Edward. Doesn't dear darling Edward have brown eyes? And dark hair? That's what you told me, at least, all those years ago. But perhaps you were lying then as well?" Carolina could only whisper. "No," she said softly. "You are right. She is yours. But why are you here? Have you rethought your decision to abandon me here?" At her last question, Carolina's eyes and voice portrayed both her anger and her hope. "No!" Jonathan's defiant answer rang out for all to hear, even though it was just the three of them there. "I came to see you! To make sure I had made the right choice! So yes, maybe I considered bringing you with me. But now? Are you crazy? You've lied to me for thirteen years! Why would I bring you anywhere? You don't love me! And you know what? I don't think you ever did. You just wanted an escape, one last night of freedom before a lifetime of domestic bliss or boredom or whatever it is you call this." He paused, glancing around the large estate. "But guess what? I fell for it. I fell for you. Hard. And now look at me. Look at you! You're trying to use me again, for the same thing! But I've got you there, Carolina, because guess what? I'm not taking you anywhere! Not now, not ever! But I will take Grace!" But when he said this, Carolina's eyes narrowed in hatred. "You wouldn't dare. She wou-doesn't want to go with you anyway." She paused before yelling, "She doesn't even know you!" Jonathan stared daggers at the one that he had loved for so long. The one that helped him retain his sanity while out at sea. The one he had hoped to take with him after today. The one he had hoped that he would never be forced to part with again. But as he continued looking at her, he saw someone else. The one who lied to him. The one who was perfectly happy with how things had worked out. The one who would have been fine if she had never seen him again. The one who never really loved him; who never really cared. Carolina was a selfish, nagging, cold-hearted bitch and he knew it now as he stared into her face. "You are right, you know." Carolina looked smug with victory before he continued. "Grace doesn't know her own father. But then again, it would've helped to know that she existed. But no, let's focus on what I've done wrong shall we? I left you here because I knew that you would be miserable at sea. I had hoped, once upon a time, that I would be able to become captain on a ship, or perhaps build my own ship. That way, you could be safe and comfortable and happy. We could sail forever, just us. The only reason I held onto that foolish dream because I thought-" Jonathan paused, looking weary and defeated and depressed. He sighed before continuing. "I thought that you would be here, waiting for me, ready and eager to leave. I thought you would run into my arms and whisper to me as you did all those years ago. I thought you would love me. And even as I stand here, seeing you for the first time as the horrid, frigid bitch that you are-" Carolina cut him off. "What?! I have never been so insulted-" But Jonathan continued on in the same voice, one that was slow, steady, and full of heartache. "-I still love you. And I wish things could be different. I do not want to forgive you, and yet I know deep down that I already have. Carolina I-" But whatever he had been about to say was lost as Carolina decided that she had heard enough. "Touching, Jonathan. Truly mesmerizing. But you never had my heart. And after today, you can be certain that you never will. I should have you thrown into prison. I should call upon one of the few respectable men in this…place…and have him remove you from the property. But, seeing as I feel so horrible to hear that you felt and thought such…ridiculous things, I will allow you to see yourself out. You can even say goodbye to Grace. But do it quickly and then get out of my sight. I simply will not allow such filth to linger here. That is what the pubs are for. Surely you have a favorite one in which to drink away your days? No? Oh, but of course you do. But you don't need to share that information with me. No…well…I must be going; I am simply tired of the present company. Good day." Jonathan stared after her, tears welling up in his eyes. _

Grace snapped back to the present, as suddenly as though someone had shook her. But she soon found the reason for this. Her locket had fallen open as it hit the window sill, and its slow, sad song had begun to play.

_I'm so tired of being here._

_Suppressed by all of my childish fears._

At this point Grace snapped the locket shut. She didn't feel like dealing with the emotions that the locket and its song always seemed to drag out of her. But even as she looked down on it, she couldn't help but smile. Her father had given it to her before he had said goodbye to her for the first time. She could've thought about that, she supposed. But today, Grace had dwelled on the words her parents had fired back and forth at each other. That day was forever engraved in her memory, and it seemed as though she could still see it, clear as day. Her eyes fell to the locket again. It was certainly very beautiful, at least to her. The locket hung on a long chain that was not silver or gold. The locket itself was gold. It fell right in between her breasts. There was a cameo on the front. It featured a woman, carved in ivory, who stood out against the soft orange backdrop of the cameo. The cameo was surrounded by gold, twisting this way and that way around it. There were eight pearls nestled in the weaving gold. There was nothing inside the locket, just the haunting song that seemed to come from nowhere. Grace could remember the first time she had heard the song. It had scared her, and yet she had also found it strangely comforting. But now, it simply made her heart hurt, even though it had been so long since he had left. Not her father. The man that she loved. She had been there to hold his hand as he recovered from blow after blow to his life. But he had unknowingly grabbed a hold of her heart. He had even kissed her once. Not a fleeting, gentlemanly kiss. A real, true kiss that she mistook as a sign that he felt the same. But when he got the chance to redeem himself and reclaim his life, Grace had found herself alone. She had been nothing more than a mere comfort. And that hurt. She supposed that had something to do with why she could never get that far in her daydreams about her life at sea. Picturing herself with anyone but him was difficult. But imagining him wrapping his arms around her, on a pirate ship, no less, was absolutely absurd. He hated pirates. He had said that they ruined everything. Grace found it ironic that he had become so much like a pirate, considering his feelings towards them. But he was a sore subject, so Grace, unable to sit around idly any longer, got up and paced. She focused on nothing, trying to clear her head. But it didn't work, and she soon found herself gazing out the window again, her mind wandering.

Jonathan Heartly wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. How he had ended up on this deserted bit of land, he wasn't sure. But he had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with Carolina. He had been on his way back to Tortuga for his yearly visit with Grace. He had written to her, telling her to expect him in a month or so. That was three weeks ago. Jonathan had recently acquired a small boat of his own. It was bigger than a dinghy, but much smaller than a normal ship. But a few days ago, a ship flying the colors of the EITC had come by. He had tried to communicate to them that he meant no harm, but they blew his ship up. Jonathan had jumped overboard once their intentions had become clear, swimming to a bit of land in the distance. So that was why he was here. _So perhaps the real question is, why was I attacked? I was quite obviously unarmed and unthreatening…_It was thoughts like these that led him to believe he had been sought out by these men. So apparently Carolina had found out about his letters to Grace. And had read them. And had acted upon the information she found. But Jonathan found it very unlikely that his daughter had been careless with his letters. No, it was much more likely that Carolina had gone through her things or had even hired someone to follow her whenever she left the house. If that was the case, this spy no doubt saw Grace meet with the young sailor who had agreed to deliver his letters. That would explain how he ended up here, on an island, with no one but his daughter expecting him to be anywhere. Grace would be heartbroken when he didn't show up. But he couldn't see land in any direction, and swimming out in the open water where there were plenty of EITC ships was a death wish. Jonathan was truly trapped.

Bootstrap Bill was tired. Even though Davy Jones was no longer captain and he was not worked nearly as hard as he used to be, a full day at sea fatigued him. He glanced at his son, who was almost finished with his ten years at sea. After that he would remain with his wife, Elizabeth, assuming she had been faithful. Bootstrap didn't know her well enough to say whether or not she remained true to Will. But Will hadn't worried, so Bootstrap didn't dwell on his son's wife. He was extremely worried about something that had taken place very long ago. He had unknowingly run into Tia Dalma, and she had given him something to fret over, to say the least.

"_Ah, William Turner, I knew you'd be comin' to me one day." The mystic looked at him, studying him, and smiled softly._

"_I-what? I'm not here to…be with you or anything. I just came here by chance and-"_

"_Nonsense, it has long been fortold! Your son, young William, he has…a touch…of destiny. There are many great paths that lie ahead of him. You must take dis, give it to him."_

_Tia Dalma held out a locket. There was a cameo on the front, as well as eight pearls. It was exquisite. _

"_But, why? Certainly this should go to some lady?" Bootstrap furrowed his brows, trying to understand._

"_It will, in time. There will also be a time when he has to let go of the one thing that keeps him happy in order to find something that will become his entire life. The woman he has found happiness with will leave him. He will go after her, and he will die. He mustn't chase after her, not after he has heard da song. Da song will show him that he was trapped by her who gave him happiness; da song will set him free. After that, he will need to learn to forsake happiness for life itself. And she will come, the one who will be his entire life, and he will be made whole again, and find bliss, as long as he remains with her. She was made for him and him alone, it is he who gives her purpose. If he refuses her, they will both die. Do not try to hide him or save him from his fate. It was determined long ago. Go now, and lead him straight and true."_

He had no idea what she was talking about then, and hardly any more clues now. The one thing he understood, however, was that this Elizabeth brought his son happiness. And he was going to lose her, someway, somehow. Bootstrap had gotten rid of the locket long ago, hoping to prevent his son from any heartache. He had given it to a young lad he met, Jonathan Heartly. He could only hope that the boy had given it to his mother or something and that she had died. Not that Bill really wanted anyone to die, but he felt if it was necessary to keep his son happy, it was a sacrifice well made. And yet he had the strangest feeling, like no matter what his son would find the locket, hear the song, and go after Elizabeth, only to end up dead.

Bootstrap had listened to the entire haunting song once. He could hear it now, in his head, as clearly as if he held the blasted locket in his hand.

_I'm so tired of being here._

_Suppressed by all my childish fears._

_And if you have to leave._

_I wish that you would just leave._

'_Cause your presence still lingers here._

_And it won't leave me alone._

_These wounds won't seem to heal_

_This pain is just too real _

_There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears _

_When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I held your hand through all of these years_

_But you still have all of me_

_You used to captivate me_

_By your resonating light_

_Now I'm bound by the life you left behind _

_Your face it haunts_

_My once pleasant dreams_

_Your voice it chased away_

_All the sanity in me_

_These wounds won't seem to heal_

_This pain is just too real_

_There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_

_When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I held your hand through all of these years_

_But you still have_

_All of me_

_I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone_

_But though you're still with me_

_I've been alone all along_

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_

_When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I held your hand through all of these years_

_But you still have_

_All of me_

Bootstrap mulled over the words of the song. Perhaps it meant that Will would be forever haunted by Elizabeth and her departure. Thinking back to what the mystic said, he decided that if Will could find this…other girl, he would live, and even be happy again. Of course, that was only IF Elizabeth left him and IF Will found the locket and heard its song. There were only a few more hours left before Bill's only son could leave his captaincy of the Flying Dutchman behind and start his life with Elizabeth. Bootstrap could only hope she wouldn't break his son's heart.


	2. A Bitter Homecoming

**A/N: **Yeah, I know, I really suck because it took me too long to update. I'm sorry, really. Or not, whatever you prefer to believe. I still don't own PotC. Just Grace, her family, and her locket.

Chapter 2- A Bitter Homecoming

Elizabeth Turner stood, alone, on a cliff overlooking the sea. She watched as the sun sank lower in the sky. She had thought, long ago, that she would always look forward to this day. But now her heart was filled with confusion and torment. Elizabeth had been faithful to her long-gone husband, never once thinking of another. But the open water called to her. Everyday she felt its pull, as if it was begging her. It was so enticing, and sometimes Elizabeth wondered how she resisted it. But that's when, every time, without fail, Will's face would pop into her head. And she would feel guilty. Because she knew if she left to go out to sea she would never come back. Not even for Will. Not for anything in the whole world. But she couldn't do that to him. Even though she wasn't even sure of her feelings towards him anymore. If the circumstances had been different, Elizabeth knew she would've been happy, even blissful with her husband. But he was nothing more than an unseen burden now. A burden that kept her close to shore and miserable. It was like living in Port Royal all over again, pretending to be a proper lady when all she wanted to do was go out to sea and never return. She yearned for freedom, and even though she knew Will would do anything to make her happy, she couldn't ask him to go out to sea. He was nearing the end of a tenure of ten long years at sea, and surely he needed rest. He needed to come here, to a home where he could start his life with his wife. _But maybe I'll feel differently once I see him. Maybe I could love him again. I don't want to hurt him, but…I long for freedom. I need it. All I feel is this dull ache. But perhaps it is because of his absence. Perhaps when I see him again I will forget the sea, and its call. I will be lost again in his arms._ She thought these things, but she couldn't even convince herself that they were true. Yet, she held a silly, childish hope that maybe everything would turn out alright. _Maybe we can both move on. Maybe his love for me falters as well. I can only hope…_Elizabeth was pulled out of her thoughts by a green flash. _We shall soon see what will become of this. I can only hope that I will not break his heart._

William Turner II rushed to the side of the ship. He could barely make out a figure standing on the distant cliffs. He grabbed something to hold onto, not really paying attention to anything besides the view in front of him. The figure, no doubt, was his wife, Elizabeth. He smiled as he came closer and could see her, standing there, waiting for him. She ran out of sight, and for a minute Will thought she was running from him. But he simply forgot that thought when he saw her, completely out of breath, on a small beach under the cliffs. Elizabeth had only come closer, and Will could see her properly now. And she looked lovely. Half of her long, blonde streaked hair was pulled away from her face, while the rest fell in waves down her back. Her honey colored eyes sparkled, and the corners of he perfect lips were turned upwards in a smile. Her eyes looked a bit funny to him, but he supposed that he had forgotten exactly what they looked like. As he continued to gaze at her, he couldn't help but notice that there were a few lines in her fair face, and that she no longer had that look of youth about her. She had aged ten years. And while he still thought her beautiful, Will knew that she might be a bit uncomfortable. He hadn't aged a day, after all. Would she feel old? Ugly, even? He couldn't be sure, and all of a sudden Will felt horrible. _This is Elizabeth you're talking about. She is the most beautiful, confident woman you've ever met. I think she is more than capable of dealing with an aging difference that doesn't even really exist. And even if she does care, you love her and that's all that matters now. You'll live with her for the rest of your life and she deserves better so you shouldn't be worried about silly things like this._ Will was pulled from his silent scolding by his father, who pulled him from down and smiled a slow, sad smile.

"Ready to go ashore?" Bootstrap asked. "I know it's been awhile but she loves you son. She's waited for you all these years. Go back to her."

Will looked down at the deck, hoping to ward off any tears. He had spent the last ten years getting to know his father, and now he had to leave him behind. For good. Bootstrap was going to stay on the Dutchman, and Will was going to live with Elizabeth. The odds were very slim that they would ever see each other again. He had grown to love old Bill Turner, forgiving him for leaving all those years ago. And even though he was more than happy to start his life with Elizabeth, he couldn't help but wish that he had more time with his father. He lifted his eyes up only to find his father genuinely smiling at him now. Will furrowed his brows and Bootstrap laughed in response.

"I am happy for you, far happier than you could ever imagine. You are free, and that's all that matters to me. Don't worry about me. I'll see you one day, I know it. But until then, be happy, my son. There is nothing more you can do for me."

"But Father, I'm sure I could figure out some way-"

"No." Bootstrap interrupted. "My life is at sea now, and it has been for years. But you still have a chance of having a real life, and I forbid you from throwing that away for some old man like me. Because no matter what you do, one day I'll pass on. So don't waste your precious time on me. Go."

Will looked at his father before replying, "Thank you."

"Go." Bootstrap repeated before pulling Will into a hug. The young man was shocked, but he patted his father on the back a few times before turning away. He nodded, and without a look back Will went ashore to see his wife.

Bootstrap smiled as his only son turned away and dived into the water. He laughed at the young man's impatience and eagerness. Will obviously wasn't waiting for any dinghy to take him ashore. Saying goodbye to him had been difficult, and knowing that Elizabeth might leave Will made it even harder. But it had to be done. He could no longer try to protect his son, much as he might want to. His son was truly on his own, and no one could help him anymore. This was his life, and he no longer had grand adventures or tedious duties tying him to the sea. Not that Will disliked sailing. In fact, Bootstrap could tell that his son enjoyed being at sea. But he had been away for so long that no one could blame him for wanting to "retire" from sailing, at least for awhile. He looked up, only to see Calypso, the heathen goddess that, in Bootstrap's opinion, had started this whole mess.

"He is free." She whispered. She looked exactly as she had when she had been Tia Dalma. That made him shiver a bit. He could clearly see her hands as she extended them out to him, giving him that cursed locket.

"Damn," he muttered, and Calypso furrowed her brows before speaking.

"Dat locket will find him, and you will be sorry dat you tried ta hide it. It is his destiny." She looked to shore once more before whispering something unintelligible. Then she disappeared completely.

Elizabeth watched from the beach as Bootstrap hugged his son, who then turned and dived into the water. _It seems that Will is anxious to be with me once again. _And before she could even think anything further, a figure rose from the waves. Will. Her breath caught in her throat. He looked exactly as he had when he left, except that the scar over his heart had faded somewhat. But he was truly breathtaking, in every sense of the word. She had thought that perhaps her eyes deceived her when she first saw him, because Elizabeth was sure that ten years had gone by. But, looking at him, she couldn't tell. He approached her, slowly and cautiously, as though asking for permission. Tears filled her eyes, and when he saw this he looked heartbroken. Suddenly she ran to him, and he caught her in his arms as she sobbed. It took her a good ten minutes to calm down, but Will was content just holding her in his arms. But, by some unseen force, he had the wind knocked out of him, and he fell, with her right on top of him. Elizabeth looked up at him, and he looked back with the same expression, one of confusion and slight amusement.

"What-" Elizabeth began. But she gasped before anymore words escaped her lips. Her hands were on Will's chest, and she could feel his heartbeat.

"Your heart." She whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

"My…heart? Oh!" He said, surprised and pleased. He brought his hand up to where hers was, and she moved so he could feel it for himself.

"The chest…do you still have it?

She nodded in response.

"Then…how?" Will paused before smiling gently. "Calypso."

"Calypso? What's she got to do with it?" Elizabeth asked. "Oh, never mind. She has everything to do with it." She paused. "And yet, I am not at all curious as to how she did this. She's very…difficult, isn't she? I don't believe that anyone can explain any of her actions."

Her words faded into silence, and they stayed still for a long while. It was awkward, to say the least. Finally, Will couldn't handle it anymore so he tilted her chin up and brushed his lips ever so slightly against hers. She shuddered, involuntarily, and allowed him to actually kiss her. It felt familiar, and yet Elizabeth could taste the salt on his lips. In the past, his perfect lips were enough for her. But she enjoyed the subtle reminder of the sea, and allowed the kiss to deepen as she tried to block out everything but the taste of it. When she realized what she was doing, Elizabeth gasped, effectively breaking the kiss. Will looked down at her, confused and then, looking into her eyes, sad. He could easily see that something was wrong with her. She hadn't looked this tormented since she'd killed Jack. Maybe that's what was wrong with her? But no, as he looked into her eyes, he found that something was missing. He couldn't explain what it was, so he sat the both of them up, and she began to sob again. But this time Elizabeth didn't want to be held, in fact she shied away from his touch. So Will sat there, looking out into the horizon, even though the sun had set long ago. He was waiting for her breathing to steady, and when it did, he turned to face her.

"You must have some sort of home here. How about we go there now, and you can get some rest?" Will looked over at her hopefully. She didn't respond, and he began to help her up. But when she was back on her feet, Elizabeth snatched her arm from him.

"Why do you have to be so perfect?" She screamed. Will looked at her, perplexed.

"Don't you understand, Will? I…" She faltered, looking into his eyes, before whispering, "I don't love you anymore."

Will felt as though he was being stabbed through the heart all over again. His newly returned organ throbbed in protest, as though it too remembered what had happened. He staggered back a few steps, as though he was on a ship his first time at sea. A sudden realization came to him. Love. That's what had been missing from her eyes. She had cried when he'd come ashore because she knew, even then, that their relationship couldn't be salvaged. And she broke their kiss because she didn't want him to get carried away. And she cried now because she knew that she'd have to break his heart. There was no way around it. He still loved her, but her love was long gone. She had been hoping to avoid destroying him, but Elizabeth knew that allowing him to believe the lie that was their love would be even more detrimental to him in the end. So she told him now.

Will's eyes and face were completely blank. Elizabeth saw this and was sickened by the thought that she had done this to him. She reached out to him, but he didn't even blink when her hand circled his wrist. She tugged him a bit, and he stumbled forward a step or two, with the same expression on his face. Elizabeth was scared now. She let go of Will, and he fell backwards, landing on his back. That seemed to bring him out of whatever dark place he had ventured to, and he sat up, only to find Elizabeth sitting in front of him, whimpering.

"Will, I'm so sorry. I just…couldn't lie to you. Please say something. Don't just sit there; it kills me to see you like this."

"Does it?" He asked.

His cold manner brought more tears to her eyes. But when he saw this, Will immediately felt ashamed of himself. He still loved her, despite what she had done. And he probably always would. He had still loved her even when he had foolishly thought that she loved Jack. Nothing could change how he felt about her, it seemed.

"Shhh." He whispered, pulling her close. Elizabeth tried to fight for a moment, but gave up and allowed him to console her.

"It's alright. Everything will be alright. I promise." He whispered into her hair, barely loud enough for her to hear over her own muffled cries. He stroked her hair, one strong arm around her waist, holding her to him. She was shaking, so Will began to gently rock back and forth, hoping to calm her.

"No," she whispered into his chest. "I've ruined everything, it's all my fault! I-I just-"

"It isn't your fault. It's not like you tried to forget about me is it?" Will tilted her chin up.

"Well, no but-"

Will interrupted her again, saying, "But nothing. If it wasn't your intention to do this, then no one can blame you for it. You're far too hard on yourself."

"You're far too good. You're supposed to hate me. Any other man would've despised me. But not you. Maybe one day…" Elizabeth's voice trailed off.

"Maybe one day what?" Will asked

"I don't know. I mean, I really want to go out to sea again. I really miss the sea."

As she continued to talk, Will watched her eyes, noticing the love in her eyes as she talked about the ocean.

"But anyway, maybe after awhile, after I've had enough of the sea…but no. I can't have you waiting for me. You deserve better than that."

Will looked her in the eyes, completely solemn. "You waited for me."

"Yes, but you didn't want to go. And I do."

"I can wait." Will protested. "If there's one thing I've learned over the past ten years, it's patience." He laughed. Elizabeth, who was still in his arms, could feel his laughter, and it calmed her further. She pulled away and sat half an arms length away from him. He looked over at her and shrugged a bit to show he didn't mind.

"I'm not making any promises." She said. "But I feel that we…may have a second chance. Someday. In the mean time, I think…I think I should use my father's name again."

She looked over at him to see his reaction. His chocolate eyes showed hurt and understanding and total defeat.

"I suppose." Will paused. "So this is really happening then?"

"Yes." Elizabeth whispered. "I do have a ship, if you want me to-"

"No, I think I should find my own way to get wherever it is I decide to go." Will replied.

"You're right."

They both stood up. Will held one of her hands in both of his before whispering, "Then goodbye, Miss Swann."

And he turned away without uttering another word.

Elizabeth's eyes widened upon hearing Will's last words. _He hasn't called me Miss Swann since…the day I met Jack…that was the day of Norrington's promotion ceremony…when I was twenty! That's fourteen years ago! I do hope he'll be alright. I know it was wrong to give him hope like that, but who knows? Maybe I will be able to love him again._ Sighing, Elizabeth turned away, hoping beyond hope that Will would be alright.

"Damn."


	3. Rescue Missions

**A/N: **I still don't own PotC. Unfortunately. This chapter takes place about two weeks after the first one. The second chapter takes place only hours after the first one, so this one is also about two weeks after that. I hope that isn't too confusing.

**WARNING:** There is RAPE in this chapter, so if you can't handle that I suggest you look away. I don't think it's really that graphic, but you might. Who knows, eh?

Chapter 3- Rescue Missions

Grace was extremely worried. She sat on her bed, wondering what had happened to her father. Almost five weeks ago, she received a letter that promised his arrival in Tortuga in the coming month. But he still wasn't here, and it was driving Grace insane. Day after day she sat in her room, waiting for some sign that he was here, or another letter, perhaps. Jonathan had never been late before. Grace looked out her window, hoping to see a quick flash of light that told her that her father's messenger had some news or letter. The messenger was a man about eight or nine years older than Grace. His name was Markus, and he had come to be one of Grace's only friends. He was easy for her to trust, well, considering her trust issues. This was mostly because Jonathan trusted him, and he hadn't led Grace astray since they had met. So it was almost natural for her to trust Markus. Even though she had lost any trust in people in general upon learning of her mother's deceit, Grace, in time, had learned to trust and even like Markus. He brought news often, and could always tell what Grace would deem important and refrained from giving her any other messages. But she hadn't seen Markus' light since the arrival of her father's last letter. The situation reeked of her mother's interference. God, Carolina was such a nosy bitch. If only Grace knew exactly how far reaching her mother's knowledge of her life was.

Joshua Greevey sat comfortably in a tree outside the window of his subject. He had been hired by Mrs. Dalton to "keep an eye on" her daughter. Joshua had been only too happy to oblige, the girl was beautiful. But his employer had given him careful instructions not to allow her daughter to know of his little duty. In fact, Carolina had not-so-subtly implied that the "wench" should not even know of his existence. This he was not happy about. Joshua wanted to have a little fun with the girl, but he was satisfied with the paycheck and shameless flirtations that Mrs. Dalton threw at him. He didn't dare disobey what she said. Besides, her husband was in charge of the EITC operations in Tortuga, and he was a very powerful man. Edward's business was kept quiet from the townspeople, who after all these years still had no idea what it was he did. Mr. Dalton was a fearsome man.

Joshua paused, thinking about his employer's spouse. He was almost six and a half feet tall, and he was well muscled. His brown eyes showed no warmth, only his domineering nature and prideful habits. Not to mention his cold, brutal personality. Looking into his eyes was not like looking into pools of chocolate, but more like looking at the hard, cold earth as you fell to your death. He was pitiless, loveless, and heartless. He could really care less what his wife did, as long as she was obedient to whatever commands he tossed her way. Carolina had been such a pretty little thing, once. So innocent, so naïve, so trusting. She had had hopes and dreams. But Edward had quickly broken her spirit, and now she was just like him. Her eyes had grown cold with hate and unhappiness, just like his. Joshua could remember the man saying,_ "Dreams are for the weak and foolish who are too stupid to go after what they really want. Dreamers are a waste of space and air and I refuse to tolerate them." Dalton paused to scoff. "That's all pirates are, you know. A bunch of drunken dreamers. If I succeed in my work, then one day the world will be rid of such useless bastards."_

Grace had decided it was time to make a venture into the town. She was going to find Markus. Normally, she wouldn't be so paranoid, but something just didn't feel right. Although she suspected her mother, Grace was sure that the woman had no clue about Markus, or her journeys into Tortuga, or even her correspondence with Jonathan. So she got up, happy to have a goal, or really, something to do, and set off, only pausing to grab her sword. She had learned swordplay from the one honest local blacksmith. Grace had even sparred with her stepfather on a few occasions. But she had gotten the majority of her skills by participating in bar fights with the local pirates. Sure, they were all drunk, but they were also more experienced, so Grace took whatever advantages she could get. So she went over to her large window, throwing it open. Without further hesitation, she swung her legs out and carefully scaled down the walls of the house in the little footholds she had worn into the walls from her many escapes into the town. Stopping only to briefly look around to ensure that she was alone, Grace left, pulling herself on top of the large stone wall before hopping out of sight of the mansion, quickly disappearing into the night.

Joshua watched her intently as she made her way over the wall. He jumped almost silently from the tree he was sitting in and made to follow her. Grace had gotten a good distance away in the time it took him to get over the wall himself, so Joshua ran for awhile to catch up. She seemed to have a specific location in mind. But she stopped cold when she heard a lone cry. _Shit._ Joshua swore under his breath. Some of the other men hired by Carolina were supposed to be "taking care of" Markus. They were doing their job, but it was obvious that they had forgotten the part about doing it in a way that was "discreet and undetectable." Joshua was alarmed when he looked up, because in the midst of his silent tirade, Grace had found Markus and his attackers.

Grace turned a corner and almost shrieked with shock and anger. Instead, she drew her sword from its sheath and held it in front of herself. There were six men, plus Markus, who was beaten and bloodied on the ground. He appeared to be conscious and alert, so Grace allowed her attention to turn to the attackers, who, for some reason, hadn't moved. They just stared at her, until one of them turned to the man who was evidently in charge of this operation. He gave a silent nod, never moving his eyes from Grace's. The other five slowly advanced towards her. She shot Markus a look, and he motioned for her to run. Grace turned, ready to heed her friend's advice, and ran into something. Or rather, someone. This man was not one of the original six, so Grace couldn't be sure if he was friend or foe.

"What are you fools doing?!" He demanded. Grace looked at him again, finding his face oddly familiar.

"I could ask you the same, Joshua. The girl isn't supposed to know that you exist."

_Joshua? I think I met him once. Wait, why am I not supposed to know that he exists? And how do they all know each other? _Grace thought hard while waiting for Joshua's answer.

"Nevertheless, Andrew, you're not supposed to attack her." Joshua said finally.

"Did it look like we were attacking her?" Andrew raised his eyebrows.

"You ordered your men to surround her, so yes."

"Ah, but we were only gonna have a bit of fun with her, right lads?" Andrew laughed, and so did the rest of the men.

"Oh, is that all? Well, you know that we're all under the strictest orders not to touch the girl." Joshua paused, and Grace thought for a split second that she might get out of this unharmed. "However, she did interrupt your duties and she did leave her home without permission. Who's she going to tell if you have a bit of fun? Her mother?" Joshua laughed. "I was never here, gents. Have your way with her."

Grace's jaw dropped, and Markus tried his best to free himself from his restraints. One of the men noticed this and hit him over the head with the handle of his sword, knocking Markus unconscious. The men now completely surrounded her. Here she was, a lone girl in a dark alleyway with six men who wanted nothing more than to have their way with her and a dear friend who was injured and passed out. She had her sword, but there were six of them, not to mention that two of them carried guns. Including the leader, Andrew.

"Well men, I think I'll go first, and then we'll travel around the circle, alright? Every man will get his turn." Andrew laughed, and Grace realized that she wasn't escaping.

Will Turner sat outside a pub. He was happy that he had gotten away from the island he had said goodbye to Elizabeth on. However, he was not happy to be in Tortuga, and he was not happy to be here with Jack. Not that he didn't like Jack. Or really, not that he disliked Jack. It was just, well; he had hoped to end up somewhere that he could find a position as a blacksmith in. There were plenty of smithies here in Tortuga. There just weren't many honest ones. After all, this was THE pirate sanctuary in the Caribbean. And it would probably always be a pirate haven, because the EITC was all but destroyed after the battle ten years ago. It had lost its credibility and its leader. There were rumors of the company's continued activity, but no one saw any evidence of it so the rumors remained just that. Will had his suspicions, but he kept them to himself. It's not like anyone listened to him. Certainly not Jack. Nor any of the crew. Elizabeth had listened to him, but now…it was like he was all alone. Which is why, when he heard a woman's scream over the tumultuous noise from inside the bar, he immediately got up from his seat and ran.

Will could feel his heart throbbing against his chest. He had been running for only a few minutes, but the amount of noise made it hard for him to focus. His head pounded. He was about to give up any hopes of finding the origin of the scream when suddenly he heard it again, only clearer and much closer to his current location. He ran, turning a few more corners, until he came upon a truly gruesome sight. There were five men, all of them having some blood splashed across their hands and chests. There was another man, lying on the ground, who was obviously unconscious. And then, the worst sight yet; another man, very bloody, forcing himself upon what at first glance Will thought was a young boy, due to his attire. However, in the next moment it became clear that it was a woman. She looked at Will without really seeing him. She was gasping, and her face was covered in cuts and bruises. She had tears pouring from her eyes as she pleaded with the man who was holding her. Her breeches were ripped, and her shirt was slashed open in the front, revealing her chest. There was a tattered coat that appeared to have been cut off of her. The man had a few cuts himself, but the blood splayed across his body was obviously mostly hers. His shirt was off, and his breeches were unbuttoned. The man looked over, noticing Will for the first time.

"Can I help you, sir? I'm a bit busy at the moment." Andrew said, still holding up Grace, who looked like she would faint any moment.

"Let her go." Will said simply.

Andrew furrowed his brows. "What do you care? She's a whore! And I hired her. So she's mine for the evening, no matter what you say."

Will surveyed the situation again. "Let her go." He said it more firmly this time. "Or you will be sorry."

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do? In case you hadn't noticed, Mr. Knight-in-shining-armor, there's six of us, and only one of you. The bitch would love to help, as you can see she's already tried to do her part." He paused, gesturing to the numerous cuts on his face and chest. "And this other nosy bastard is out cold. So that leaves you. You want to re-evaluate your next move? I tell you what, if you leave now, we'll let you live, right boys?"

The rest of the men mumbled their agreements; they had been hoping to kill someone that night, but torturing an unconscious man until he was dead was simply not what they had in mind.

"Very well then, you are free to go." Andrew waved his hand impatiently, shooing Will away. However, Will only stepped closer until he was completely in the alley.

"I'm not sure you understand me. Let. Her. Go." Will paused. "Apparently you are a…slow lot because I thought I was being clear. Inescapably clear. So either hand her over, or die. It's really quite simple, I don't understand how-"

Will's remark was cut off by Andrew's fist, which was suddenly flying towards his face. He ducked, and, unsheathing his sword, the fight began.

Andrew had dropped Grace in his attempt to hit Will, and she crawled over to Markus, trying to see how he was faring. But Andrew had decided to let the others handle Will, so he soon pulled her away. He ripped off the remaining parts of her tattered breeches and forced his own down past his knees. His erection was freed, and upon seeing this, Grace began to cry. They were standing in the farthest corner from the brawl between Will and the five other men. Even if her savior managed to defeat all of the men, there was no way that he was going to do so before Andrew had his way with her. _Please, God, let this man, whoever he is, let him save me. And Markus. Please. _Grace prayed in her head. As Andrew was preparing to enter her, he heard a new voice join them in the alley.

"What's going on here?"

Andrew turned, only to find that Joshua had returned.

"Kill that man!" Andrew shrieked, pointing at Will.

"With pleasure." Joshua replied, jumping into the group, hoping to get his chance to injure the indicated troublemaker.

Will was in trouble. Normally, he could easily dispatch anyone who happened to cross his path. But it seemed to him that these men had been trained to fight with pirates. They obviously knew how to engage in a proper duel, but they also used rough techniques that Will had only come into contact with during his adventures with pirates. They had only attacked him one at a time so far, leaving Will to wonder what their intentions were. But Will could tell that they could fight much better than they showed. Perhaps they were trying to evaluate his skills? No matter what they were trying to do, Will knew that they would soon attack all at once, and he had to be prepared. They surrounded him, and now that another man had entered the circle, Will could feel his chance of success diminish. But now the fight would really begin. The men started to come at him. He knocked one of his attackers in the face with his elbow while his sword parried the blow of another of the men, and the man fell back, his nose broken and bleeding heavily. Will stabbed him through the chest, killing him. He grabbed the man's sword. He had finally killed one of them, and he now had two swords. He sensed two of them coming to attack from behind, so he turned the swords so they impaled themselves on the blades. Another took this opportunity to try and drive his sword through Will's stomach. He kicked the sword out of the man's hand and brought his swords across the man's chest, slashing him. He began to bleed profusely and fell forward onto Will, who could feel the man's still-warm blood seep through his shirt and stick to his chest. The last of his original attackers came forward, and Will quickly cut his throat wide open with one hand while blocking the man's blow with the other. The last man came up from behind Will and threw his extra sword among the bodies.

"Impressive…for a pirate." Joshua flashed Will an insincere smile. "But now you will face a far more…worthy opponent."

They began to circle. And so the duel began.

Andrew had been watching the battle, seemingly forgetting about the woman in his arms. But now that it was down to just Joshua and the intruder, Andrew decided that it was time. He grabbed Grace's arms was bruising force. And just like that, he sheathed himself completely within her. Grace screamed a loud, alarming sound that seemed to cause all of Tortuga to stand still for a moment. The sound caused Will to freeze, which allowed Joshua to swipe his blade at Will's neck. But he woke from his stupor in time to block it, and the battle continued. Grace was crying, whimpering, sobbing, and bleeding. Her entire body felt like it was bruised. And to make matters worse, Andrew was pounding himself into her at an alarming rate. She felt something dripping down her leg, which she thought, for a moment, was his seed. But with horror, she realized that it was her own blood. Andrew bit at her neck and breasts, leaving bloody teeth marks. She screamed again as another wave of pain hit her, and Andrew smacked her across the face so hard that her neck cracked.

"Shut it, whore!" He screamed. Finally, he pulled out of her, mercilessly dropping her to the ground. Grace saw that he was still hard, and realized, after a beat, what was expected of her. Her mouth opened in shock, and Andrew took this as opportunity to stuff his manhood into her mouth. Grace nearly choked. She was gagging so much that she could barely breathe.

"Now suck me off like a good little whore." Andrew whispered.

Grace's tears rolled down her dirty cheeks. She could feel Andrew's hands on the back of her head, holding her on place. He began to rock back and forth. Grace heard him moan loudly from somewhere above her. Suddenly, tremors wracked his body and he came in her mouth. She was about to spit it out, but Andrew's hands clamped her jaw shut, so she swallowed it. He gave her a few pats on the head.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Andrew looked down. Her pitiful expression and tear streaked face caused him to laugh. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it." He looked over to the two men who were still dueling. Grace heard a cry, but her head was swimming, so she couldn't identify it. "Damnit!" She heard Andrew scream. Then she fell over, and everything went black.

Will had finally bested Joshua. Andrew came forward, drawing his pistol, ready to fire. But he stumbled a bit, allowing Will to very easily slash the back of neck open. He also stabbed the man through his back, just to be safe. Catching his breath, Will surveyed the scene. _Oh God. I wasn't fast enough. She's been…_Will couldn't continue his thought. He had to save her. He had tried to finish the men off as quickly as possible, but this last bastard had still taken advantage of her. Her clothes were completely gone, and her fully exposed body was covered in blood, both fresh and dry, as well as numerous vicious-looking bruises. Will felt uncomfortable trying to help her, it was obviously necessary, but still. She was a woman. And she was lying there, unconscious and very naked. He took his coat off and covered her with it. He decided to try and wake the other man. He walked over to where the man lay, kneeling down next to him and shaking his shoulder.

"Excuse me? Sir? Please, wake up. I need some help. She's…she's going to die." Will felt his voice shaking. Even though he didn't know this girl, the thought of her dying filled him with a sense of unnatural dread. After a few more minutes of quiet pleading and gentle nudges, the man woke up. He sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Who-who're you?" The man whispered. "Where's Grace? Did she get away?"

"I'm Will Turner. Grace huh? The woman's name is Grace?" The other nodded. "Well, one of the men, he…he forced himself upon her. I tried to stop him, but the others surrounded me. She's not in a good condition. I want to help, but…" Will trailed off turning his head to look at her again.

"Oh God! Grace!" The man sat up abruptly. "I'm Markus, by the way." He got up and dashed over to her side. He began to cry silently, tears streaming down his face. "Oh Grace, I'm so sorry. So sorry."

"Uh, Markus? I think we need to get her out of here. Now." Will said, trying not to be harsh. "She needs medical attention, and this is not the place to give it. We can go back to her home, or-"

"Not her house!" Markus hissed.

Will continued his sentence. "-or we could bring her to your home?"

He received a glare in return. "That's where these fools dragged me from. Let's not go there."

"Alright, then I suppose we'll have to go to the inn where I'm staying."

"Fine," Markus replied. "But how did you know that we don't live together?"

"I guessed. She has no resemblance to you, she has no ring, and she doesn't look like a whore, no matter what that man said. So that rules out the brother-sister relationship, the husband-wife relationship, and the customer-whore relationship. What's left? I assumed you were at least acquaintances."

"We're friends. Good friends." Markus said. "I'll carry her, if that's alright with you."

"That's perfectly fine. I'll lead the way. Although if I told you where it is we're heading you could probably get there before me." Will paused to consider this. "So you take her and lead us, and I'll follow and keep watch. We're heading to a small inn, on the better side of town. I think it's called-"

Markus had already picked Grace up, and he had removed his own jacket and wrapped it around her exposed lower half. "The White Rose?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"Alright, there's a shortcut we can take. Follow me."

Markus turned to lead, but not before whispering, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They made their way through the none-too-quiet streets, sticking to the shadowy alleyways. They were fairly close now, Will guessed, and he hadn't even seen anyone. They turned a few more corners, and suddenly the inn was right in front of them.

"Head straight up the stairs. My room is the last one on the right. I'll be up in a minute." Will said.

Markus nodded his understanding and headed into The White Rose. It was indeed on the "better" side of Tortuga, in fact, Markus could see the Dalton mansion from the windows to his right. He tried to bypass the man at the front desk, saying that he was expected by Mr. Turner. The man stammered out that Mr. Turner wasn't there, to which Markus nodded and said, "Yes, that's why he gave me the key." He showed this to the man, who was eyeing Grace with fear and pity. Finally, he gave a funny little bow and allowed Markus to head up the stairs. There was a door directly across from Markus when he reached the top of the stairs. To his right, there was a wall. To his left, there was a dim hallway, so Markus turned, being careful with Grace, making sure that neither her head nor her feet would run into the narrow walls. He made it to the last door on the right, shifting Grace so he could unlock the door. After it was opened, Markus immediately set Grace down on a fair sized bed. There was a jug and wash basin on the dresser, and a candle on the nightstand next to the bed. The windows showed, in the distance, and tiny bit of the sea. He looked back over to the dresser, which had a large mirror propped on top of it. His face was bruised, and there were quite a few cuts across his sun-tanned face and chest. His blond hair was free of its tie, and fell around his face, and his green eyes were bloodshot. He reached up and felt the lump forming on the back of his head from the blow that had knocked him unconscious. He might look beaten, but it was nothing compared to Grace. He didn't really trust this Turner, but he had supposedly tried to help Grace, so he didn't complain. Yet. Markus could hear footsteps, surprisingly soft, and there was a quiet knock on the door before Will popped his head in.

"Oh good. Hopefully we can start treating her wounds. Otherwise she'll have nasty infections."

Markus didn't like the sound of that. Treat her wounds, eh? That sounded like an excuse for Will to look at Grace's body to him. How could Markus be sure that it wasn't the man before him that had violated the girl he loved?

"Oh really?" He asked.

Will furrowed his brows. It was going to be a long night.


	4. Tending Wounds & Trading Stories

**A/N: **Still don't own PotC. And I've changed when Grace meets her father for the first time; she was ten, not thirteen. It's essential, so I'm sorry if it causes confusion, but keep it in mind. I went back and changed it in the first chapter. Oh, and there's a bit of a quote from Zoolander (which I also don't own) and whoever points it out…gets…uh…my unending praise?

Chapter 4- Tending Wounds and Trading Stories

Will and Markus stood there, looking at each other so intently that it appeared they could read each other's minds.

"Yes," Will finally said. "We will have to treat her; otherwise she will get very ill. I got a healer to come look at her, but until then, it's up to us to make sure she's alright. It's really quite simple. Her health is in our hands. I'm not going to watch her get sick because you have too many irrational fears."

Markus looked at Will, his mouth wide open in shock and indignation. "Irrational fears? Why should you care if she gets sick? You don't even know her!"

"I don't see why that is relevant. I heard her scream so I came to assist her. Her well-being is of interest to me now." Will said calmly.

"It's relevant because before today, you didn't even know she existed! If she hadn't lived long enough to scream, you wouldn't of found out and you wouldn't of cared!" Markus paused.

Will took this as the end of Markus' arguments, so he began to speak. "Still, I did hear her, and-"

But he was abruptly cut off by Markus' screaming. "It's relevant because for all I know, you are the one that raped her! It's relevant because you're a good-for-nothing pirate who was probably settling down for the night with some whore when you heard Grace scream! You probably thought you could save her and that in her gratitude, she'd sleep with you! It's relevant because I love her! And I won't have you taking advantage of her in her weakened state!"

Will didn't look fazed by the attacks on his character. He understood that Markus was extremely upset, probably at his own inability to protect Grace. He was opened his mouth to say something, but Markus had begun to have some sort of breakdown, so he decided to let the man vent his emotions.

"If she dies because of this, because YOU raped her, I swear, I'll kill you!" Markus immediately jumped up and walked slowly towards Will, eager to put his hands around Will's throat. It seemed as though Markus thought that by moving slowly, he could somehow sneak up on Will. But his intended victim was a bit busy. Will was in shock, mostly because he saw, from behind the man coming at him, the pale figure on the bed raise a hand to rub her eyes, which were now open. Markus' whispered statement had turned into a roar, but he hadn't expected Grace to wake up so soon. During the time Will took to think on this, Markus had reached him and breathed heavily, eyes bulging with madness, before his hands reached up to choke the surprised man in front of him. But Will was still entranced by Grace, who was now sitting up. She was clearly in a lot of pain, for she was breathing deeply and her eyes were tightly closed.

"Markus? What in the world do you think you're doing?" Grace whispered, her voice raspy.

Markus froze, his hands inches away from Will's throat. He seemed to have snapped out of whatever corner of insanity that had caused his rash behavior. But he didn't look at Grace and he didn't speak.

"He didn't do anything to me, Markus. He had to fight off Andrew's men, not to mention Joshua. I'm assuming that you had just dispatched him when I blacked out?" Grace asked, turning to Will.

"Yes. He was very good." Will looked down, his eyebrows scrunched together. "I don't mean for that to sound like a compliment, but he was good, much better than any of the others. And they weren't incompetent. That last one, Andrew I suppose?" Grace gave him a slight nod. "He was practically falling down when he came after me. After he was taken care of, I-" Will faltered. "I assessed your injuries and covered you up. Then I woke him up, and we decided to bring you here."

Markus finally spoke. "How long were you awake? What did you hear?" His words were soft and nearly inaudible.

"Just the last part, I suppose. Before you, well, attacked." Grace looked directly at Markus, who still refused to raise his gaze from the floor. She turned to Will again. "So, I don't believe we've met properly. I'm Grace Heartly." She stuck out her hand from her position on the bed, obviously aware that she was covered by no more than the sheets on the bed and two jackets. Will walked over to her, smiling_. God, he has an amazing smile._ Grace thought. He took her hand, shaking it. "Will Turner." Her jaw all but dropped. _No. No, no, no! Not him! Thank God I never wear the locket into town. He could've heard the song! That would be horrific! But_ _maybe it's a different Will Turner?_ "The captain of the Flying Dutchman?" She inquired, hoping to God the answer was no. "Its former captain, yes." Grace's heart dropped. "Of course, after all, it's been ten years." Will looked away, saying, "Yes, it has," more to himself than anyone else. Grace let her head fall back against the headboard.

Markus finally looked up. "Why didn't you mention that before? I wouldn't have said…but really, why'd that slip your mind, eh?"

Will looked at him. "It wasn't important. Besides, when I introduced myself, you didn't mention it, so neither did I. But how did you know, Grace? I mean, it's not exactly common knowledge. There've been plenty of rumors, but half of the people I've talked to still think that Davy Jones is going to sic the Kraken on us all."

Grace picked her head back up. "My father told me in a letter. He spends a lot of time out at sea, so he hears things. I remember him writing something about being picked up by…Mistress Ching? Yes, that's it. And he served under her for while. He was guarding the ship during the meeting of the brethren and I think he ended up on Sao Feng's ship. He remained on that ship for awhile, serving under Captain Swann. Apparently she was pretty upset, so my father tried to comfort her as best as he could. I mean, it's not like any of her crew wanted to hear about her problems. So then they made port, and she allowed the first mate to take the ship's captaincy. My father left at the same time as her."

"Oh," Will said quietly. "Well, this is an interesting conversation, but I think it would be best to continue it later. I fetched a woman who is a doctor of sorts. Hopefully she'll be here soon. She told me to try and clean you up, but I don't think anyone is quite comfortable with that." At the last part of his sentence, Will shot Markus a look.

"Right." Grace said. "I can do it myself, I think." She took a deep breath.

"Of course. We just weren't expecting you to wake up so soon. Your injuries are pretty severe." Will got the wash basin and the jug of water and put them on the nightstand. He poured some of the water into the basin, which had a clean cloth in it.

"I'll wait outside. I'll knock when the healer gets here. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." Will walked towards the door. "Coming, Markus?"

"Oh, yes. Of course." Markus gave Grace a short nod, and walked out the door as Will held it open. Will turned to give Grace another smile before leaving himself and closing the door.

She let out a quiet moan. Grace had been trying not to scream the entire time she'd been awake. She'd bitten her lips and the inside of her mouth till they bled. Normally, she wasn't afraid to show when she was hurt. But she'd stretched the truth about the exact timing of her wake up. She'd actually woken up when Markus first interrupted Will. So she'd heard all of Markus' little tirade, including the "I love her" part. And she didn't want him to be all worried and protective of her. She'd seen him like that, once. Love did strange things to Markus. He had fallen in love with a lady whose ship, which had been making the crossing from England, was attacked and sunk. She had managed to survive and swim to the nearest bit of land she saw, which just happened to be Tortuga. He'd babied her, and it drove her crazy, especially considering that she didn't feel the same about him. Which was exactly the predicament Grace was in. Sure, she liked Markus. They were friends. But she didn't love him. The woman had decided that she couldn't handle Markus anymore, so she left on the next ship that would take her. She was so desperate that she'd left on a pirate ship. Not that many other ships come into Tortuga, but she left on one whose captain was notorious for his rough way with women. The whores of Tortuga had even filled her in on that bit, (and so did Markus,) but she still left.

Sighing, Grace lifted the sheets and removed the men's coats. She gasped at the state she was in. No wonder Will hadn't expected her to wake up. It looked like she had lost half her blood, because her entire body, from her neck to her ankles, was covered in it. But even with all the blood, she could see the vicious bruises forming everywhere, mostly shaped like fingers. Most of the bruises were purple, but a few were covered in cuts, which had turned a nasty shade of green. She took the cloth, ridding it of excess water before rubbing it against her skin. It hurt because almost all of her body was either bruised or cut. The jackets were both completely ruined due to the amount of blood that had been smeared on them. When she finally was mostly covered in tan skin again, she heard a discreet knock. She covered herself up and said, "Come in," as loud as she could. She saw a kind looking older woman come in, carrying a basket, which was likely filled with all sorts of healing salves and herbs that would sting a lot. Grace sighed again, wincing when she laid her hand on her flat stomach, which was covered in bruises. The woman gave her a gentle smile and said, "My name is Amelia, miss. Hopefully I'll be able to help you and protect your body from dangerous infections." Grace smiled back.

"There will be no need for formalities, Amelia, my name is Grace and I would be extremely pleased to be addressed that way."

"Of course, Grace. Now, let's take a look at your injuries. The nice lad who came to fetch me didn't tell me any of the details of what happened to you-"

"Well-"

"Oh my goodness! What on earth happened to you, young lady?" Amelia looked at Grace with a mix of worry, pity, and fury. "Explain!"

Grace smiled sheepishly, even though she was in excruciating pain. Amelia was the kind of woman who you could tell had children who never got away with anything, but were well taken care of, loved, and cherished. Grace's own mother had never been that way, not even before Grace hated her.

"I-I was uh…" Grace didn't want to relive what had happened, nor did she want Amelia to know exactly what had befallen her.

"Never mind, let's just finish assessing her wounds so I can treat them." Amelia looked at Grace with more pity than she thought possible. The woman soon came to the center of Grace's pain. Amelia glanced at Grace's womanhood, and then did a double take. She literally froze before looking at Grace with understanding. Grace watched the healer's face and saw tears well up in the old gray eyes. She watched the woman reach back into her basket.

"This will hurt a great deal, I'm afraid. I know you're already in pain, but this is necessary or you will get infected. That could prevent you from ever being able to have children."

"I understand." Grace nodded solemnly. "I'm ready."

"If you like, I could get one of the men to come in here, just so you have a hand to squeeze. That might sound silly, but you'll want to be able to find a way to relieve the pain. I do have an extra dress and under things for you to put on. We can finish up everything else, dress you, and then get one of them in here."

"I, uh, I suppose so." Grace really didn't want Markus to come in. He would be a blubbering mess. But she also didn't want Will in the room. He had a way of making her extremely nervous. She was surprised that she had been able to have a conversation with him without telling him how brave and heroic she thought he was. Not to mention how handsome he was. _He's almost too good looking_. Grace blushed slightly as she pictured Will's face, which she was able to do with ease, considering her eyes had hardly left his face while he was in the room. His brown eyes sparkled with kindness and a bit of mischief. His hair fell almost to his shoulders, and even though it was tied back, Grace thought it looked incredibly soft. She would give almost anything to run her hand through those curls. And then there was his smile. He had perfect, even teeth. And his slight dimples were to die for. She would be absolutely mortified if this perfect man came in here to hold her hand while she screamed! The thing is, he would do it, even though he didn't know her. He was just that kind of person. Still, she could tell that Amelia's advice was not given without reason.

Unfortunately for Grace, Amelia finished dressing and treating the rest of her wounds with alarming efficiency. All too soon for her liking, Grace was being helped into a plain blue dress that Amelia had brought with her.

"Which of the fine young gentlemen would you like me to fetch for you, dearie? Amelia asked with a bit of a giggle. "The blonde, or the brunette?"

"The, uh, the brunette, please."

"Good choice. The blonde's good-looking, I suppose, but the other is just…perfect, wouldn't you agree?"

"Why yes, I would." Grace said quietly.

Amelia moved towards the door. After peeking her head outside and whispering a bit to the men, Amelia returned to the bed with Will in tow. He gave her yet another smile. _That makes three. Three perfect smiles._ Grace looked down, as if Will could read her thoughts by looking into her eyes.

"Alright, William, make yourself useful and sit up there by Grace and give her your hand. And don't you dare look, young man, or you'll have me to answer to. Understand?" Amelia continued to prepare the necessary salves as she waited for Will to answer. When he kept silent, she turned back to him. "Well? We don't have all day here, William!" Will tore his eyes away from Grace's, the smile he had given her quickly leaving his face. "I understand completely. No peeking." Amelia rolled her eyes and Will gave a little arrogant smirk to her back. "Don't worry, Grace. I was only jesting. Amelia and I have known each other for ages. I met her here, of course, one night when Jack got himself into a particularly nasty bar fight. I was half dragging him through the streets when she popped out of nowhere and pulled us towards her home, where she proceeded to tend Jack and scold him all at the same time. She's like our Tortuga mother." Amelia had started to apply the salve during Will's story, so Grace had grabbed his hand. Her knuckles were turning white from the death grip she had on his hand. But surprisingly, she managed to laugh as the story ended. Of course, her laugh was soon cut off by a blood-curdling scream, but it was a laugh nonetheless. Will smirked, and Grace found the strength to yell at him.

"Shut it William! You have got-" Another scream erupted from her lips. "-no idea how much this bloody-" She screamed again. "-salve-" The worst sound yet escaped her, so terrifying that Markus pounded and the door and yelled, "What's going on in there?" Amelia chose to put Markus out of his intense worries but replying, "It's just the salves, dear, they tend to-" "HURT LIKE BLOODY HELL!" Grace screeched. Tears began to stream down her face. "Yes, that's it." "I'm very sorry Grace, but you went from laughing to screaming in the blink of an eye, and it was quite amusing. Really, though," He added in a softer tone when he saw her crying. "I'm sorry. I'm sitting here laughing at you while you're in unimaginable pain. It was incredibly insensitive of me, I'm not sure I fully understand what came over me. I really am terribly sorry, Grace." Amelia had finished applying the salves during Will's apology, so Grace opened her eyes, which had been screwed shut in pain, and watched Will's face. It had become full of melancholy and regret. _How on earth am I supposed to resist that face? I can't even pretend to be mad at him! _"It's alright Will." Grace responded softly. She moved to wipe away the tears, but Will's hand got there first. She froze as he cupped her face with his hands and brushed away any remaining tears with his calloused thumbs. Grace closed her eyes, relishing the feelings, trying to commit them to memory. His skin was rough from his years as a blacksmith and covered in calluses where his hand would grip a sword. Yet his hands were incredibly soft and gentle, and he was careful not to press too hard on any of the bruises on her face. When he was finished, Will brushed Grace's hair from her face and kissed her brow. For the briefest moment, Grace felt like everything was going to be okay. She wished that she could freeze this moment in time, laying on Will's bed at the inn with his hands cupping her face and his petal-soft lips pressed to her forehead. But all too soon Grace felt the absence of the warmth of Will's lips. She opened her eyes, only to find his beautiful brown ones looking down at her. He moved his hands down to his lap, and Grace reached out to take one of them. Her grip wasn't as tight as before, but she made it obvious to Will that she didn't want to let go. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, until they heard the door open.

Markus and Amelia entered the room, which surprised Grace because she hadn't heard the older woman leave. She quickly let go of Will's hand, and he stood up and moved away from the bed. Markus came running over, and Grace couldn't help herself; she rolled her eyes.

"Are you alright? God Grace, you screamed so loud that I thought you were going to die! Didn't he help you at all? That's what he was supposed to be here for, wasn't it?" Markus glared at Will.

"I'm fine now, Markus. And stop picking on Will, you should've seen how tightly I was squeezing his hand! If he wasn't here, I probably would've screamed even more!" Will gave her a smile in thanks. She nodded her head.

"Well, I could've sat here and held your hand, why'd you let him do it?" Grace didn't know what to say. She didn't want to reveal her feelings for Will, and she didn't want Markus to know that she was aware of his feelings for her. Thankfully, Amelia stepped in.

"Markus, dear, you're injured yourself, and I didn't want her to hurt you anymore than you already are. Not that you're delicate, but I just wanted to be careful. Besides, Will has been in this position many times before, haven't you, dear?"

"Yes, except it's usually Jack who's trying to break my hand. Don't worry Grace, I'm still in one piece."

"I wasn't worried. But Markus, if you hold my hand any tighter it's going to come off."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"So, I know this is completely off-topic, but what exactly did your father tell you in his letter? Why was Eli-Captain Swann upset?" Will inquired.

"Oh, something about her husband dying, or being taken away, or something. She didn't give a name. It was mostly sobbing and blubbering, from what my dad told me." Grace said nonchalantly.

"I see." Will furrowed his brows.

"Why, did you know her?" Grace burst out.

"Well, yes. I did." Will replied.

_Or I thought I did. _


	5. Resting Wounds

**A/N:** Um, yeah. So I haven't updated in a very, very, very long time. It's kind of embarrassing, actually. So I kind of try not to think about it. I'm extremely sorry to those that have been waiting all these months to read the next chapter of this story. I will be immeadiately beginning to write the next chapter, and I already have a basic idea of what I want to happen, so hopefully it won't be another year before I update again. It may be a week or two, though.

Chapter 5- Resting Wounds

"Will?"

Grace's voice brought Will's thoughts out of the black place they had been heading towards.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Did you say something else? I'm afraid that I became a bit lost in my thoughts."

Grace smiled gently. "I was just wondering how you knew her, that's all."

"Oh, well..." Will stopped speaking, unsure of what to say. Amelia looked on anxiously, hoping to find a way to save Will from this particular conversation. But her fears were soon put to rest as Grace moaned quietly in pain.

"I do believe that's quite enough excitement for you, young lady. It's time for you to rest." Will mouthed "Thank you," to the older woman, who gave him a mother's smile.

"Yes, I think that I should probably go find Jack. I've allowed him to remain in a pub for far too long this evening. Well, this morning." Will gestured to the window, showing that the sun was obviously well on its way to rising. He looked sheepishly over at Amelia, and said, "He'll probably need a place to collapse, and some herbs for the headache he's sure to have."

"Oh, and I suppose you're hoping that I can help you with that?" Amelia raised an eyebrow, clearly teasing the young man.

"Well, I was mostly hoping to find a place to sleep myself. Jack was just my scapegoat." He grinned.

"Ah, so now the truth is revealed! Of course you can stay with me, William. But you'd best fetch Jack, because I sincerely doubt that he's managed to keep himself out of trouble this long without you."

Grace seemed to realize, for the first time, that she was neither in her own bed nor in Markus's.

"Oh, Will, I didn't mean to take your bed..."

"Don't be ridiculous. You didn't exactly have a choice, you know." Markus spoke for the first time in minutes, having watched the exchanges between Grace and Will and Amelia.

"Oh." Grace felt a bit foolish.

"It's quite alright, Grace. This won't be the first time I've taken advantage of Amelia's hospitality. And most likely not the last either." Will finished his statement with a light laugh.

"That's quite right. Now out, all of you. Yes, you too, Markus." Amelia stopped the man's protest before he had even opened his mouth. "You may accompany me home, and then you will rest. And that's final. We can all come back later today to check on Grace. Now let's go."

Both Will and Markus heard the firm undertones of her commands, and so they both began readying themselves to leave.

"Grace, are you sure-"

"Yes, Markus. I'll be fine here by myself. I'm just going to sleep."

"Don't worry, Markus. I'm going to lock her in." Will held up the key to his room.

"Alright, then." Markus seemed entirely unhappy with the arrangements, yet he knew there was little he could do to change the circumstances, especially when Grace had implied that she wanted him to leave. There were few things he wouldn't do to please her.

Will packed some things for himself before grabbing Amelia's basket, which was now noticeably lighter than it had been before, and turning to say goodbye to Grace.

"I'll see you later, Grace. Rest well." Will smiled softly.

_Oh, God. There he goes again. That smile..._

She was startled out of her thoughts by the disappearance of that smile, and the raised eyebrow that followed.

"Oh, um, I hope you rest well, too. And thank you, Will."

If Will noticed the awkwardness of her reply, he didn't acknowledge it. He simply smiled again, and turned to leave. Amelia had closed the curtains, and Markus finally got up from his place on Grace's bed. He turned back around to say something, but Grace had already closed her eyes.

"Well now," Amelia said. "We should really be going." And with that she led the way out of the door, which Will had been holding. He continued to hold it to allow Markus to exit, before shutting it almost silently after his own departure.

Grace was finally alone, for the first time in what seemed like forever. Her eyes popped open, but they soon drifted shut again. She fell asleep thinking of perfect smiles.

Amelia led the two young men away from the inn at a rather brisk pace. Markus groaned internally when he noticed that they were heading back towards the various pubs and shops that made up the center of Tortuga. He turned around to glance at The White Rose, and, in the distance behind it, the Dalton mansion.

Markus knew that Grace wouldn't be safe in Tortuga for long. It was only a matter of time before her mother would send more of her goons to fetch her. Much as he was loath to say it, Will's room at the inn was probably the safest place in Tortuga for Grace right now. But it wouldn't be safe forever and again, Markus dreaded admitting this, but Grace was going to have to leave. Very soon. He would go with her, of course, but he truly had no idea how to procure passage onto anything but a pirate ship. Every ship that came into port in Tortuga was under the command of pirates. And he certainly didn't want Grace anywhere near pirates. Well, more than usual, anyway.

He trailed behind both Amelia and Will, who were walking casually through the streets of Tortuga. They turned down a dirt path leading away from the hustle and bustle of the town's center. Soon after, a rather small cabin-like structure came into view. Will sped his steps, pulling a key out of the basket he was carrying, and opened the front door. He nodded to Amelia as she walked into what was obviously her home. Will continued to hold the door until Markus had also passed over the threshold.

"Come here, Markus. I'm sure you could do with a bit of tending to yourself." Amelia said briskly. "Perhaps you should go fetch yourself a clean shirt, William. You look positively gruesome." She looked pointedly at Will's chest, which was covered in dry blood, none of it his, from the fight.

The older woman immediately began to fuss over Markus. She cleaned the dirt and blood out of the numerous cuts on his face and upper body. Then she spread a salve onto his bruises. Finally, she took a good look at the large bump on the back of his head.

"You'll live, my dear." Amelia smiled gently, and Will raised an eyebrow as he reentered the room in a clean shirt.

"Was that ever in question?"

"Shut it, you. Like I said, you'll be fine. Just be careful, and get some rest. Come now, I've a nice bed that I'm sure you can put to good use."

Amelia sent a quick scowl over her shoulder at Will, who grinned in response. She turned around to face him.

"And to think I believed you were a charming, well-behaved young man."

"Well, at the time, I was accompanied by a certain captain, and he makes it incredibly easy for one to make themselves seem charming and well-behaved."

Amelia gave a short laugh.

"You've got me there, love."

Will turned to leave.

"I know you want to go fetch that beguiling captain, my dear, but I would be ever so grateful if you'd go check on Grace while you're out. She'll not have slept well, more likely than not. I'd be surprised if she wasn't awake when you get there."

Markus looked positively indignant.

"I could-"

"Oh Markus dear! I seem to have completely forgotten about you! You need to be put to bed immediately. Come on, now."

Amelia turned and led the way, leaving Markus no choice but to follow. He sent a glare to Will's back as he too exited the room.

"On second thought, William dear, I think it best that you wait a bit before going out."

Will paused and turned in the open doorway. He hadn't heard Amelia return. He stepped back in and closed the door.

"And why is that?"

"Just because, William."

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Do I not deserve a better explanation than that?"

"We just got here, dear, and I sincerely believe that we should allow Grace to try and struggle into sleeping for a bit longer. I know that once you show up she'll likely stop trying."

Will narrowed his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She is obviously still under the impression that you are charming and well-behaved. She'll see through that eventually, of course, but until then I think you will definitely need to stay away from her as she tries to rest."

Amelia gave him a smirk, and Will scowled. He chose to attack her teases rather than the underlying issue.

"I am perfectly charming and well-behaved, thank you very much."

Amelia snorted.

"Why don't I get to see that, hm?"

"Because I've been spending entirely too much time with the good Captain."

"Ah. That would make sense."

"Speaking of said Captain, I should probably be off to fetch him now. Who knows how long it will take to pry him from his bottle today?"

He gave an exaggeratedly tortured sigh, and turned once again to leave.

"Not yet, William."

Will furrowed his brows.

"But…"

His confusion deepened, and Amelia finally took pity on him.

"I only have the one extra bed, love. Let Markus rest a bit before you go. I'm sure your Captain can handle things a bit longer."

"Of course. Would you like me to make some tea?"

"That would be nice, dear. I've had a long night."

"Then perhaps you should be resting as well."

Will walked with her into the kitchen, and held out a chair for her at the table. He then busied himself with making tea.

"I have patients to tend to."

"Uh-huh. Well, you are of no use to anyone if you are tired. After you finish your tea you will go lie down for a while. I'll wait for another hour or so, then go off to check on Grace and fetch the Captain."

Will brought two cups of tea over to the table and sat down. He handed one to Amelia. The older woman cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb along his cheekbone.

"You are such a good boy, my dear. I know how it pains you to sit idly. Perhaps you could rest as well, while you wait? Just close your eyes for a moment or two? You probably haven't slept since the night before last."

Will looked at this woman, who for all intents and purposes had become his mother. They often teased each other, but they truly felt a sort of love between them. Amelia had never married or had children, and Will had long been an orphan. It had seemed to be a perfect fit, the childless woman and the motherless child. Amelia swore, to this day, that Will had never truly grown up. He was simply the most mature child she had ever met. He hurt like a child, and loved like a child, openly and without caution. He may not show it, but he easily allowed people into his heart and cared for them dearly forevermore. The pain he had been put through, by his friends, by his family, and even by the woman he loved above all else had not driven them from his heart. If anything, he took his pain as punishment for failures only he could see. He had failed to help Jack in his quest to get both the chest and key of Davy Jones, and so Jack had ended up dead and he had ended up with five lashes to the back. Well, he hadn't really failed to do that so much as hindered Jack from doing as he needed while Will tried to save his father. And the Captain had been alright, mostly, in the end. But Will felt that there must have been a way to both prevent Jack's death and rescue his father from eternal damnation aboard the Dutchman. He had failed to save his father before he had begun to succumb to the madness of his servitude, and so had ended up nearly having to kill his own father. The guilt that still caused him was never ceasing. And finally, he had failed his wife, his Elizabeth, by allowing himself to get stabbed by Davy Jones and leaving her for ten years. He'd also pushed her away in his effort to save his father. Somehow he'd also managed to make her believe that he was superior to her. She was perfection, and to reduce her to insecurities was a crime punishable by death, in his opinion. But he had duties to fulfill, and promises to keep, and so he was still alive. Not that he had ever truly considered killing himself. More likely, he would simply disappear. Leaving this entire world behind had seemed only too appealing, once upon a time. It still did, really. But Will was nothing if not responsible, so he remained.

Amelia saw all of this, because even though she'd never had children of her own, she was incredibly perceptive when it came to this young man. He broke her heart, every single time she saw him, because he was so open, so easy to read. His eyes had never quite learned to hide his true feelings. Like a child. She was sure he couldn't tell, of course, that his eyes were so vulnerable and available for the perusal of others. Amelia also knew that he didn't often make eye contact with people before focusing on the task at hand, to make sure that his very soul wasn't on display. Sadly, even after his efforts, he was easily read and deciphered. The poor boy would be torn from the inside out if anyone let on that they knew about his suffering.

The moment of silence stretched between them, as Amelia continued to stare into Will's eyes and Will tried not to feel incredibly uncomfortable. Finally, Will blinked a few times, looked down, and shifted in his seat.

"I'm fine, Amelia. Truly. I require no rest as of yet."

The older woman could see how ill at ease Will had become, so she simply patted his arm a few times.

"Alright, dear."

She gave the young man a small smile before sipping her tea. The pair sat in a comfortable silence as they each finished their tea. Afterwards, Will got up to clean their cups and the rest of the kitchen. He went over to where Amelia stood, as she had gotten up to go rest, as requested. He bent to kiss her cheek.

"Rest pleasantly, Amelia."

"And you as well, William."

She gave him a calm smile, which he returned, and left the room. Will looked around, trying to find something else to occupy himself with, but found nothing. With a sigh, he too left. He decided to read a bit as he waited, and so he went over to the poorly stocked bookshelf. He selected a sailor's manual, no doubt left here by one of the numerous patients. He knew it would distract him, and yet be easy to put down and forget about when the time came for him to leave. He eyed the small clock, marking the time in his head as he settled in to wait out this pre-determined hour.

Across town, in a nondescript inn, Grace moaned in pain as she awoke from her troubled sleep.

Meanwhile, in a seemingly unremarkable pub nearby, one Captain Jack Sparrow sat, listening to the whispers of the few other men that had managed to drink through the night without collapsing.


	6. The Good Captain

**A/N: **Here is the next chapter! I've tried to capture Jack's speech and mannerisms the best I could, but he is truly difficult to write. If he seems a bit off, I apologize. Sorry that it's so short, but I'm going to Oregon for a week and I won't be working on this at all, as the laptop is staying home. I wanted to get something out before I left, so here it is.

Chapter 6- The Good Captain

Captain Jack Sparrow was nothing if not an excellent drinker. And a pirate. And a lunatic. But he could most definitely hold his liquor, which is how he found himself upright in his chair as the sun rose over Tortuga. He was a tad bit surprised that young (or not so young, anymore,) William had not come to drag him out of this fine establishment before now. The lad was a bit…stiff when it came to drinking and generally having a good time. He never actually sat _in _the pub with Jack, saying that there was nothing of use for him there. Which Jack didn't understand, of course. Rum was useful to everyone. Especially in excessive amounts. In a deep place within himself, which Jack didn't often venture to, he could grasp that the young lad was in quite a lot of emotional distress. He'd been left by his bonnie lass, and he'd been all but forced to leave his father behind, seeing as old Bootstrap was a stubborn arse and refused to leave the Dutchman. It was reasonable, on some level, because Bill couldn't be sure, of course, what would happen to him should he no longer be bound to the Dutchman. Its power extended the lives of those onboard, and if he were to leave, it was quite possible that he would not long survive the experience. But Jack didn't often contemplate these things, because his first priority was himself, and his ship, and his rum, and his immortality (which he had yet to achieve,) about ninety-nine percent of the time. And that extra one percent was split between a multitude of people, because Jack had many acquaintances who needed worrying about. So it wasn't a common thing for the Captain to fret about young William. Of late, however, Jack found himself strangely attuned to the lad's silences and expressive eyes. The boy had quickly begun to take up more than his one percent, (which should really only be his on rare occasion,) and Jack was beginning to tire of Will's greed when it came to Jack's concern. As it was, Jack was almost wholly unaccustomed to being concerned about another person more than once every few months for moments at a time. Jack had finally concluded that the answer to his strange interest in William's touchy emotional state was...rum, naturally. He had immeadiately set course for Tortuga, because there was no reason that he should use the ship's supply of rum over this little issue. That, and he found that it was much easier to allow himself to get truly drunk when he was _not_ actively captaining a ship. He could (and often did) drink while aboard, of course, but there was always some unseen thing in the back of his mind (Jack refused to call it his conscience) that kept him from completely gorging himself on the release of the lovely alcohol. But on dry land, when his ship was safely docked and being appropriately guarded, he certainly had no trouble letting himself go, so to speak.

Jack looked around the pub. Usually, if he managed to remain vertical for this long, (or was allowed to, by his bloody blacksmith watchdog,) he was quite alone. Now, however, there was a table of three men, all with mugs in front of them, their heads bent towards one another as they whispered. Usually, drunkards couldn't be bothered with keeping their voices down, even if they didn't want anyone to know what they were talking about and the room was entirely quiet. Which, in Jack's mind, meant that there were secrets being told. Jack liked secrets. He inched his chair back, hoping to be able to hear what they were saying, but soon discovered this was not working. With a shrug, he rose from his chair, pleased to find that the room only tilted, not spun, and made his way over to the table.

"Ah. Gentlemen, if you don't mind me saying, I find it incredibly…rude that you're telling secrets without consulting ol'Jack here. I'm very good wif secrets, actually. But telling secrets, insofar as telling secrets, can only be worthwhile when telling said secrets to someone who's good, nay excellent, wif secrets. Savvy?"

The three men stared up at him, but offered no response. Jack took this as acceptance, naturally, and pulled out a chair for himself. Once he was properly seated, he looked at the men expectantly.

"As you were, gents." Jack, being Jack, accented this statement with a flourish of his hands.

The men shared a look. They seemingly held a wordless conversation with their eyes, and then returned their gazes to Jack.

" 'Oo d'ya fink you are, the king or somefing?"

Jack slowly turned his face to address the speaker, a man who was obviously the smallest and least terrifying of the group. But before he could give one of his typically confusingly condescending remarks, one of the other men, a man full of self-importance, interrupted.

"Shut it, Dodger." He looked Jack in the eye. "Apologies, my good sir." The way he said this made it quite clear to Jack that he was not at all sorry. But the Captain was very much accustomed to dealing with people who belittled his significance or thought themselves superior to him. So he sat up straighter in his chair, squared his shoulders, and prepared to verbally beat manners and respect into the poor man sitting before him.

Jack opened his mouth to put the boy in his rightful place far, far below where he imagined himself to be, for it was a table of boys he had joined, their youth becoming apparent upon closer inspection (with the help of his returning sobriety). But the appointed leader of the bunch spoke up again.

"I was merely telling a story. Surely an older gentleman," he sneered this last word. "Such as yourself could not be interested in our foolish stories." The way he said all this, of course, clearly showed that he was telling a very important story that Jack should be extremely interested in. The captain desperately wanted to give the boy an idea of precisely to whom he was showing such great disrespect, but realized that his continued anonymity could affect how much information he would be able to glean from these lads.

"To the contrary, my fine sir. I am intensely curious as to the nature of the story you are telling." Jack knew that, in this situation, it would be best for him to act as though he could not hear the sarcasm and underlying insults that plagued this boy's every sentence. People like him liked to be important, to be in charge, and to have no opposition whatsoever. Jack would have to allow the verbal abuse until he heard whatever the lad had to say.

The boy's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but after a moment, he shot his companions a look, and launched into his tale.

"Well, this whole thing starts twenty-three years ago. Former Governor Swann, rest his soul, his young daughter, Elizabeth, and former Commodore Norrington, rest his soul, were crossing from England to Port Royal, where Swann was to take his position as Governor. Norrington was an Admiral at the time, and Elizabeth Swann was a girl of ten years. She was dreadfully fascinated by pirates. As the story goes, she spotted a boy floating in the water on what appeared to be part of a ship, and quickly alerted the men aboard the ship. They pulled the boy from the water, and young Elizabeth went over to make sure he was well. He woke, briefly, and introduced himself as Will Turner. He was quickly pulled back into unconsciousness, and Elizabeth noticed he wore a chain, with a medallion. She took it. When she went to examine it further, out of anyone's eyes, she saw a ship. It was the Black Pearl."

The lad continued to tell his story, and Jack's jaw dropped. Not because any of it surprised him, but rather because it was an entirely accurate. An entirely accurate account of the last twenty-three years as far as himself, Elizabeth, and William were concerned. The worst part was that he even knew that Elizabeth had left poor William. The details, of course, were still a mystery, but Jack knew that under no circumstances should this story get any further. In his very few moments of clarity, Jack could tell that Will was a rather broken individual. Even so, he preferred to suffer in silence, or rather, he preferred to pretend that no one else could tell. And having some young, ignorant boy come up and throw it all in his face would not be good.

"Interesting tale, lad. Truly. However, m'afraid that quite a few of the details are a bit…iffy."

"Iffy? And who are you that could discount my story?"

'Why, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

The boy burst out laughing, and the other two, who had been silent since the story had begun, soon joined in.

Jack immediately rolled up his sleeves to show the tattoos and other identifying marks on his forearms.

"Not kidding, savvy?"

He smiled wide enough to show his golden teeth, and shook his head so all of the trademark accessories in his hair were on display. He pulled his hat seemingly out of nowhere (he often hid it when he didn't want to be bothered with his legions of admirers). He stood up, suddenly wearing his coat, and there was no doubt in anyone's mind that this was indeed Captain Jack Sparrow.

Jack decided it was high time for him to show these boys exactly how wrong they were in treating him as they had been. His normally playfully wicked grin didn't look playful at the moment. His eyes were calculating, not mischievous.

"Now, lads, I'll have your names. Quickly." Jack sounded eerily sober.

The boys exchanged terrified glances, and Jack mentally congratulated himself on his ability to strike fear in the hearts of others. Scaring people silly was quite fun.

The one who had spoken first (and had then been mercilessly reprimanded) spoke first.

"M'name's Dodger, Lawrence Dodger."

"Hm. Lovely. Next?" Jack sneered.

The silent boy mumbled something.

"What was that, now? Mumblin's not respectful, lad. Wouldn't want to be disrespectful, eh?"

"My name is George Stanley."

"Very good, lad! Much better than that mumblin'! How 'bout ye, boy?" Jack spat the last word of his question, hoping to get through to the boy just how displeased he was with him. The young man seemed to get the message.

"My name is Joseph Lancaster." The lad kept his eyes down, not wanting to see Jack's fury.

"Now, it seems to me that you lads are in need of some proper lessons in being respectful-like. I'd be quite happy to help you out with that." Jack looked at them, waiting for a response.

"Well, now, it seems that it's worse that I'd thought. Polite young boys say 'thank you' when someone offers to help them with something."

"Thank you!"

"Thanks very much."

"We are indebted to you, Captain."

"Hm, it seems as if Georgie here knows how to properly express his gratitude! Nicely done!"

This promptly caused another round of 'thank you' and such for the compliment. Even though he had only praised George, the others were afraid enough to thank him as well. It seemed as though the name Captain Jack Sparrow was still revered enough to warrant such responses and fear. Good.

"Upstanding lads such as yerselves shouldn't be spreading untrue stories, savvy? I speak for meself and for Mr. Turner as well, I think, when I say that we wouldn't 'preciate this nonsense getting around, savvy? I'd be careful of Mr. Turner, if'n I were the lot of ye. He wouldn't like this, not one bit. And what's worse than havin' one fearsome pirate captain comin' after ye? I shiver to think what would happen to ye if ye upset Turner."

While Jack praised himself on a job well done, he noticed that Joe might have submitted to his humiliation, but he didn't seem inclined to believe that his story was anything but the truth. He'd have to work harder on that. He sat back down, propped his feet up on the table and schemed.

The door was opened, and the four at the table turned their heads to see who had caused this intrusion.

"Ah, William!"


	7. Facing Facts

**A/N: **Many thanks to those of you who review! It definitely makes it all worthwhile! I'm sorry that I was too lazy to make Grace's dream more original; but it was definitely easier to take Bootstrap's memory and throw it in here than have to worry about writing an entirely new scene. And yes, it's been awhile, but not a year, like last time. I find it very hard to write this, truthfully, because I have long since discovered that I much prefer slash. However, I do intend to finish this story, no matter how long it takes. Also, the chapters will probably be shorter, but perhaps more frequent, also.

Chapter 7 – Facing Facts

Grace shot up, and immediately regretted it, because it caused all sorts of aches and pains to be aggravated. But she hadn't had this particular dream in quite a while, and she had been completely unprepared for its appearance.

_It was always the same. Grace found herself looking down upon a nondescript path through an unspectacular forest. An odd woman stood waiting, as though expecting something._

"_Ah, William Turner, I knew you'd be comin' to me one day." The mystic looked at him, studying him, and smiled softly._

"_I-what? I'm not here to…be with you or anything. I just came here by chance and-"_

"_Nonsense, it has long been foretold! Your son, young William, he has…a touch…of destiny. There are many great paths that lie ahead of him. You must take dis, give it to him."_

_Tia Dalma held out a locket. There was a cameo on the front, as well as eight pearls. It was exquisite. _

"_But, why? Certainly this should go to some lady?" Bootstrap furrowed his brows, trying to understand._

"_It will, in time. There will also be a time when he has to let go of the one thing that keeps him happy in order to find something that will become his entire life. The woman he has found happiness with will leave him. He will go after her, and he will die. He mustn't chase after her, not after he has heard da song. Da song will show him that he was trapped by her who gave him happiness; da song will set him free. After that, he will need to learn to forsake happiness for life itself. And she will come, the one who will be his entire life, and he will be made whole again, and find bliss, as long as he remains with her. She was made for him and him alone; it is he who gives her purpose. If he refuses her, they will both die. Do not try to hide him or save him from his fate. It was determined long ago. Go now, and lead him straight and true."_

_The strange woman watched as the elder Turner walked away from her. Then, she turned her head and looked right at Grace, or where she would be if she were actually there._

"_Him be coming for you. Be not afraid, girl. But don't you try and save him. Once you have the locket, der will be notin' you can do. Just love him. He will see, before the end. He will see, or die."_

It had taken Grace quite some time to figure out exactly what she was being told, but once she had, she'd always kept an ear out for news of William Turner. She'd been able to ask her father, which had been an enormous help. And now, now she had met him and talked with him, and that was more than all right. She could easily see herself with him. She remembered her daydreams about tanned arms circling her waist. Grace had never been able to imagine anything beyond those arms, because she could not picture herself involved with anyone, ever.

Grace sat in reflection, feeling quite unable to simply lie back down and go to sleep. She knew that she'd be awake for a while, though there was nothing to keep her so except for her own thoughts and musings. She could hear the other patrons of the inn stirring, for the sun had long risen. She heard footsteps approach the room, and she froze in fear. She knew, logically, that there was no way she'd been found by anyone under her mother's employ, but Grace couldn't help the feeling that twisted in her stomach, adding to all her other aches. She heard a key turn in the lock, and then a soft knock. _Ah, Will then._ Grace thought. She couldn't imagine anyone else knocking on the door before entering. Sure enough, Will Turner's head poked in the room. He smiled upon seeing her awake and fully came into the room and sat timidly on the edge of her bed. _The man is trying to kill me. Smiling that way should be illegal._

Will nodded his head at her. "Amelia said that you'd be awake. That you wouldn't be able to sleep well, what with the uh…nature of your injuries. I hope you did manage to get some sleep, Grace. How are you feeling?"

Grace was surprised to find that this was the first time they'd ever been truly alone together. "I slept a little, I suppose." She didn't want to tell him about her dream, so she decided to answer his question instead. "I'm mostly all right, I think. Perhaps a bit sore, but I believe that's to be expected."

Will's eyes shone spectacularly, Grace noticed randomly. He chuckled a bit. "Yes, I'd believe so. You're well otherwise, then?"

Grace smiled at the concern she could hear in his voice. "Yes, thank you. And yourself? Surely you've gotten some sleep too."

Will rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I, uh…not quite yet, actually. I will though, I promise. After I fetch Jack…um, and after he sleeps off a bit of his hangover." Grace gave him glares in return for his statement. "But you shouldn't be so worried about me, at any rate. I really don't sleep as much as I used to, before I was Captain. Actually, I probably haven't had regular sleep since I gave up blacksmithing." He said this last sentence wistfully, as though he'd like nothing more than to resume his former profession. Grace felt a bit perplexed. _So why hasn't he? Surely nothing is keeping him from leaving Jack. Or Captain Sparrow, really. I've not even met the man and yet I refer to him as though we're close personal friends. _

"So why don't you open a smithy? Or work at an existing one? I'm sure there are many who could use help." Grace was shocked at the momentarily apparent stab of pain in Will's eyes.

"Oh no, I could never…it's not really an option for me anymore." Will looked down. "Oh." Grace didn't know what else to say.

"Perhaps I should be going." He stood up abruptly. Grace looked helplessly at his closed-off expression. "Maybe," she said faintly. She continued to watch him as he turned to leave.

He paused, then spun back around, running his hand through his hair, and sat back down. "I'm sorry for being so rude, Grace. You must think I'm positively dreadful. I do have something I wish to discuss with you before I go. I think you need to leave Tortuga. Hopefully I'll be able to convince Jack to leave so early, but otherwise I think I'll be able to barter our passage aboard another ship."

"Our?" Grace could only imagine how lovely it would be to travel with Will Turner. "Oh, well, I figured someone had to go with you. How silly of me. You probably want to go with Markus." Will blushed. Grace's heart thundered in her chest. "No! I mean, wouldn't it be best if the three of us went together? Or if Markus stayed behind, so no one got too suspicious?" Will smiled. "I think, regardless of whether or not Markus stays, that your disappearance will be regarded with nothing but suspicion." Grace blushed and looked down. "Perhaps."

"Now, I really must be going. Jack will be awfully and dreadfully drunk by now. I don't know if I'll be able to carry him all the way to Amelia's." He sighed. "Oh well. Try to get some more rest, Grace." He looked at her imploringly. "For me?" Her eyes widened. "Of course."

"Good." He smiled. "We'll all be back later, I'm sure. Until then, Grace." He nodded his head at her, and she gave a little wave in response. "Goodbye, Will." He shut the door quietly behind him and Grace heard the key turn in the lock. _I hope he comes with me._

Will made his way out of the inn and headed towards Jack's favorite tavern. The captain would likely be alone by now. Will rolled his eyes as he opened the door.

"Ah, William!" Will looked over to a table on the far side of the room. There sat Captain Jack Sparrow, donning his full captain regalia, and three young men Will had never seen before. They looked at him fearfully and somewhat curiously.

"Jack…" he said cautiously. He had no idea what the captain was up to, therefore had no idea how to proceed. Jack looked back at the boys and then rose and sauntered towards him. Will merely raised an eyebrow. When Jack stood next to him, he turned to leave. But the captain had one more thing to take care of before his departure. "William," he hissed under his breath. Will turned back around. Jack faced him. "Give a look, real scary-like, to those kids over there, savvy? They've been sayin' some things 'bout you and your bonnie lass that I don't think you'd 'preciate." Jack hated that he had to bring up the wench to inspire a reaction in the whelp, but at least it worked. Will glared at the boys, and he looked scary enough to be the captain of the Flying Dutchman for once. Then he turned around, disgusted. "Let's go, Jack." He went through the doors without another word. "You think 'bout what I said, real carefully, now." He gave a wicked grin and turned to leave.

"Captain Sparrow!" Jack turned to see Joseph heading towards him.

"Aye lad, what is it?" Jack peered at him carefully.

"It's just…I heard that Captain Swann has run into some trouble out at sea. There've been loads of attacks on her ship, sir. They say she was wounded recently."

"Now lad, what did I tell you-" Jack felt himself being pulled out the door. _Bugger_. Will had obviously heard what the boy had said. And now, no doubt, he'd do something completely stupid to go and make sure his lovely wench was peachy keen, and then he'd be left by her all over again. Jack decided that he would take the lad, if only to keep an eye on him. _A bloody loyal lovesick boy he is. And nothing else. _Jack sighed as he continued to be pulled through the streets as morning dawned on Tortuga.


End file.
